THE BEST STORY EVER
by sugarchupchup34
Summary: Spatulas. That is all.
1. YUKI

Shuichi let out a huge great gaping yawn that rippled through his slender body. He smelt something vaguely delicious cooking, his bed was warm, and he had been conscious for 3 minutes already without anybody beating on him, shooting him or forcing him to write engrish trance songs. It was shaping up to be a pretty rad fucking day!

"If you don't get your punk ass in here right this second, I'm giving your breakfast to hobos." Yuki called out from the kitchen. Eager to taste the sweet porridge his lover always made to perfection, Shuichi threw on the clothes that had been discarded in a pile by the bed the night before and hurried through to the kitchen. Except...

SLAM

He ran into the door that Yuki had conveniently closed mere seconds before the pink haired torpedo had emerged from the bedroom. His delicate nose erupted in a fountain of scandalously red blood, that dripped down the door onto the white carpet below. The door opened, revealing an annoyed looking Yuki.

"If you don't settle down, I swear, right now, I will rape you with this spatula."

"Aw, Yuki, you are so loving to your waifu" Shuichi responded playfully, beaming at his partner.

"No. I will do it. Shut the hell up for just long enough for me to get out of the house."

"Where are you going?!"

"That's it!" Yuki said. It wasn't the words that alarmed our hero Shuichi, it was the tone. He shuffled his chair back as Yuki got up, grabbing the spatula from the utensils pot, approaching him, an inky black aura surrounding him.

"Yuki..." He whimpered.

"Be a good boy and it'l go in handle first."

Yuki grabbed his trembling Shu-chan by the neck and slammed him down onto the breakfast table, crushing his pale flesh against the porcelain breakfast dishes. Shuichi elicited a sharp gasp as he felt the microscopic shards of pottery rip through his skin like a knife through butter, forming an abstract pattern of tiny cuts all down his back. "Please, Yuki, don't I-" but before he could form a coherent protest he was greeted by the rather invasive feeling of cold fingers pulling at his ass. "Stop... our breakfast, it'll go cold!"

"Bitches don't deserve porridge." Yuki growled. Shuichi felt the terrifying feeling of unlubed fingers diving straight into his hole before he could protest. He let out a squeak, trying to twist away from his lover's pinching grip. It was then he felt something much, much worse then Yuki's temporary probing. The warm, sludgy feeling of something that was definitely not a water-based lubricant.

"What's that?" Shu-chan asked breathily, still struggling against the iron grip that held him.

"OK, so I lied, bitches do get porridge."

"NO! Yuki! Not there!" He said, as he felt tears well up, trying to force himself to relax. How could the morning have spiralled into such a nightmare? It had only been a moments ago that he was laying happily in his bed of glee, and now he was being taken against the kitchen table with lukewarm porridge dripping out of his asshole.

His nails dug into wood of the table. Breakfast dishes hardly ever made the best type of lube, and he was struggling to relax his internal muscles to allow his lover-turned-assailant to penetrate fully. However, Yuki wasn't going to give him the courtesy of waiting. With one quick, forceful thrust, he tore through the taut muscles, causing Shuichi to shriek like a tortured seagull. Thank the gods that Yuki had thought to soundproof the walls in his apartment. What would the neighbours think?

Yuki withdrew the spatula, now splattered with a gory mixture of blood and porridge, and licked it, his tongue lapping up the pinkish slime that glistened beneath the harsh kitchen light.

"Mm... This is the best porridge I've ever tasted." Yuki all but purred to Shuichi, who was trying his damndest not to burst into tears. "You try some." Shuichi felt the tears burn across his cheeks as the spatula was forced between his soft lips and scraped against his teeth. He clamped them shut, desperate to avoid getting a mouthful of the vile mess. But as always, Yuki was stronger than him. Choking a little as the wooden implement struck the back of his throat, the sickly, cloying taste of the bloody porridge forcing bile to rise into his stomach.

Yuki removed his hands from the spatula in order to take off his trousers, but before Shuichi could react and remove the disgusting thing from the vicinity of his mouth, his arms were pinned to the table. He tried to scream, but the only sounds that came out of his mouth were muffled squeals and squeaks. Yuki leaned over his writhing body, and kissed him gently on the cheek before shoving his cock up his young lover's ass as far as it would go. More tears spilled down Shuichi's face, but Yuki continued ramming into him with the same kind of cold indifference he usually wore.

Eventually, Yuki came violently inside him, his semen stinging the raw wounds that at only been made worse by this second penetration. A gloopy mixture of come, blood and porridge dribbled out of his abused asshole as Yuki pulled out of him.

"I'll be back later. Have this mess cleared up before I get back or it'll be the rolling pin next time."

Shuichi winced, imagining the rolling pin being used in the same way as the spatula, as the door to Yuki's apartment slammed shut. For at least half an hour, he was unable to move, paralysed on the table by a mixture of terror, pain and humiliation. Finally, he was able to summon up the strength to roll himself off the table, and crawl across the porridge-splashed floor to the phone. He dialled a number and waited for two... three rings, until...

"H-Hey... Hiro?"


	2. HIRO

"Argh, stupid phone..." Hiro moaned as he hoisted himself out from between his warm covers to lunge for the phone. "This had better not be any more of those goddamn phone seller people! I DON'T NEED ANY MORE WINDOWS! NO MORE WINDOWS! AHHHHHHHHH!! Hello?"

"H-Hey... Hiro?"

"Oh hey, what's up Shu-chan? You sound a little... Violated."

"Y-Yuki! He! He! There were spatulas! And porridge!! And! Ahhhhhh!"

"Oh my god! Hang in there Shu-chan! I'll be right over! That bastard! You're too good for him... He doesn't deserve you!!"

Hiro slammed the phone down in anger, cracking the flimsy plastic case as it made impact with his dressing table. He was shaking with rage at his best friend's lover; he felt like tracking Eiri Yuki down like the dog he was and castrating the fucker. But he controlled himself; he had to be there for Shuichi.

Throwing on a jacket, Hiro grabbed his keys and hurried out the door, pausing only to brush his sleep-tousled locks.

"Shuichi! Shuichi! Answer the door!"

Shuichi hauled himself up from the wooden floorboards, and limped as well as he could towards the door. It seemed to take several excruciating hours before he collapsed against the door handle, panting heavily, causing the door to swing open. Hiro's eyes widened in surprise as a pallid Shuichi fell into his waiting arms.

"Shu-chan! Are you alright??"

"Oh Hiro... I-I'm so g-glad y-you came..." Shuichi's usually GENKI voice trembled as he greeted his best friend.

"Come on... Let's get you inside..."

Hiro picked Shuichi up and carried him, bridal style, into the sparsely decorated apartment. He laid his friend's lithe body on Yuki's sofa.

"Stay there, and I'll get you some water."

Hiro walked through to the kitchen, noting the bloody door as he passed it. What on earth had Yuki done? He shuddered inwardly; somehow, he didn't even want to know. Suddenly, he heard a loud squelch from beneath him. He looked down, to see that he had stepped in a puddle of a reddish goo. He covered his mouth with his hand, feeling all at once rather nauseous. What the hell...

"Hiro..."

Shuichi was leaning in the doorway, a painful expression crossing his graceful features. Seeing Shuichi like this... Hiro could hardly control himself. He felt a mixture of anger... And jealousy. He had liked Shuichi since they were in high school together. He was jealous, that Yuki got to do these things to Shuichi, but he couldn't. Then, Shuichi began to cry.

Something wrenched in Hiro's heart, and seconds later, he was pulling his friend into a tender embrace. Then... Out of the corner of his eye... He saw it, just sitting there on the surface, glimmering in the dim sunlight. Its smooth steel contours called out to him, Hiro! Hiro! Use me! Use me! A maniacal grin spread across his previously concerned face, and a twinkle appeared in his eye. Yes. He would use it!

Hiro pinned Shuichi against the door frame. He stopped crying and stared at Hiro, his face transforming into a mask of terror. Hiro looked like a monster, like those scary ones he'd read about, the ones that ate up cute little boys like him! Oh no! Hiro was going to eat him! Shuichi clamped his eyelids shut and waited to be eaten, but...

Hiro was kissing him!? His eyes shot open as he felt Hiro's tongue enter his mouth. What was happening?! Both boys collapsed to the floor, panting.

"Hiro... Wh-What..."

"Sh... Don't cry, Shuichi."

"Y-You're s-s-scaring me!!"

"It's ok... I won't be like Yuki."

And suddenly Hiro was on top of him, caressing his milky flesh with guitar-callused fingers. He could feel the ends of Hiro's luxuriously soft hair ticking his naked skin, Hiro's warm breath making his whole body tremble.

"No..."

"It's ok, Shuichi. Besides, I can't stop myself now, even if I wanted to."

Shuichi could feel himself getting hard... Why was his own body betraying him like this?! Wasn't once in one day enough?! Ugh, it hurt so much... He was sure his insides were already torn to pieces.

"Wait a second Shu-chan... There's something I need to get."

Shuichi closed his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, grimacing with the pain that still throbbed through his body. When he opened them again, he let out a horrified gasp. Hiro was standing over him, with the handheld whisk in his hand! What was he going to do with that?! Oh no... Shuichi was sure that he would never set foot in another kitchen, no, never again!

Hiro knelt down on the wooden floor with the whisk in his hand. He was certain that Shuichi had been sufficiently stretched earlier, by Yuki. Well, that was one thing he could thank that bastard for. He spread apart Shuichi's porridge-splattered thighs, and gazed down at the tender hole that would so perfectly accommodate his beloved whisk.

"Perfect..."

Shuichi screeched like a dying cat as the whisk was inserted into his bowel, teasing open the barely-closed wounds. Hiro was supposed to be his friend! How could he betray him like this? But worse was yet to come, as Hiro turned the handle of the whisk, slowly at first, but gradually faster and faster until Shuichi was certain that he was going to die. His angelic voice was beginning to go hoarse. Meanwhile, Hiro was thoroughly enjoying himself. All of his darkest fantasies were finally coming true! It was like a dream... A dream from which he never wanted to wake up!

Shuichi was on the verge of passing out from the sheer agony, his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head, when Hiro stopped. As he removed the whisk from Shuichi's ruined asshole, the enormity of what he had done hit him, and he screamed. What had he done to Shu-chan?! The blood-drenched whisk now terrified him, and he dropped it onto the already stained carpet, before vomiting violently. Shaking, he stood up and left quickly, leaving the body of his friend catatonic on the floor.


End file.
